


Like It Never Happened.

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 12:35:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4305306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Damian is resurrected and Dick is a mess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like It Never Happened.

**Author's Note:**

> For a '100 followers prompts' submission on tumblr last year, before Damian was resurrected. In this scenario he was put in a Pit. Dick probably came home from the secret agent thing against Bruce's orders.

Bruce looked less than pleased. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Dick grinned. “Where is he?”

“Dick, I don’t thi-”

 _“Where is he?”_ Dick’s voice was instantly low and harsh. Bruce froze and frowned. 

“Upstairs, resting in his room.” Another voice said. Dick glanced over to see Alfred standing in the doorway of the kitchen, a tray holding a glass of water, a protein bar and some pills in his hands. “He was asleep last time I checked. Probably still is. That…that Pit exhausted him. Please be gentle with him, Master Richard.”

“Always, Alf.” Dick whispered. He reached out and took the tray from Alfred’s grasp. “You don’t seem surprised to see me.”

“Save Timothy, you’ve all died before. And you’ve all come back to me.” Alfred let a small, relieved smile grace his face as he dropped his arms. “I’m more grateful than surprised anymore.”

Dick grinned once more, leaning over to leave a kiss on Alfred’s cheek. “I’ll call you if I need you?”

“Of course.” Alfred nodded as Dick passed Bruce silently and started up the stairs. “If I may, sir?”

Dick paused and looked back. “What?”

Alfred exhaled. “The boy will be so happy to see you.”

Dick didn’t waste anymore time, and practically ran up the stairs and through the hall. Damian’s door was cracked, a soft light spilling out into the hallway. When Dick peeked inside, he couldn’t help but smile, his heart pounding excitedly as he breathed out in excitement.

Damian was on his bed, asleep like Alfred had said, with a small fire burning in the grate next to him. The little black-and-white cat was perched on the bed by Damian’s feet, eyes bright in the dimness of the room, watching over the area protectively. Titus was sprawled out on the floor next to the mattress, sleeping off the fatigue from the journey he had gone on to bring their boy home.

As quietly as he could, Dick tiptoed into the room, placing the tray on the chair that was positioned next to the bed, most likely Bruce’s contribution to the décor. As soon as his hands were free, he collapsed to his knees next to the cot, coming more or less even with his littlest brother’s face.

Dick thought his heart might burst, as he silently watched the rise and fall of Damian’s chest under the blanket, the twitching of his eyes under their lids and the small movement of his throat as his heart beat regularly. He reached out, tenderly running his fingers over Damian’s neck, feeling that heartbeat for himself. It was strong.

He leaned up, shifting the blanket down. Even through the pajamas, Dick could tell there was no gaping hole in the child’s chest. No stitched deathblow. Like it had never happened.

It shouldn’t have _ever_ happened…

His mind jumped back to that day, in the rain. That ridiculously tiny coffin. Damian in a nice black suit – the suit he had worn just a few weeks prior for the portrait sitting. His skin so cold, he was practically blue. And his _face_. So…unmoving and blank and-

Dick shook his head, moving the comforter back up to Damian’s neck, and cupping the boy’s face. He felt his eyes beginning to mist over as he felt the cheek emit warmth, and Damian’s steady heartbeat pulsed against his palm.

He was back. Damian was alive.

Dick pushed Damian’s hair off of his forehead, and kissed the warm skin. He lingered there, pushing his nose against Damian’s hairline. As he closed his eyes, he felt the tears overflow from his eyes, dripping against the boy’s eyebrows.

Damian must have felt it, as his eyes suddenly twitched, and a scowl overtook his peaceful face. He turned his head slightly, grumbling. “Ti…Titus, stop…”

The dog in question just rolled over on the floor.

“Sorry, buddy.” Dick whispered. Damian’s face scrunched tighter before he slowly opened his eyes. They were unfocused when they landed on Dick, but after a few more blinks, Damian realized who was leaning over him, and his face softened. Dick tried to act nonchalant, smiling as he sniffed and wiped at his eyes. “Long time no see, partner.”

Damian didn’t question the proximity of their faces, nor the tears that Dick had given up trying to hide. He remained quiet about the fingers running gently through his hair as he just stared up at his older brother.

“Oh, Damian.” Dick’s breath was shaky. “I’m so sor-”

“Stop.” Damian whispered. Dick leaned back a little. “Just stop. Father’s already run my patience with apologies. It wasn’t your _fault_.”

Dick barked a laugh that sounded more like a sob. Damian stared up at him, somehow perfecting the puppy-dog look he had never actually learned. Slowly, he sat up slightly, eyes never leaving his mentor. The more Damian moved, the faster Dick’s tears fell, until suddenly, they were uncontrollable. Dick leaned back on his knees, covering his face with his hands, as sobs racked is frame.

“I missed you, Damian.” He bawled. “I missed you _so much_. The family was broken after the Joker, you know that, but then after you _died_ , the family practically _shattered_ and it was all just-”

“Grayson.” Dick didn’t realize he was practically ripping his own hair out until he felt Damian’s hand curl around his. Dick looked up to see Damian leaning tiredly over the edge of the mattress, staring at him with a sadness that was borderline apologetic. Dick surged up, sitting on the blankets and taking the boy into his arms, holding him tight to his chest. Damian pushed at his limbs, trying to pull away as he grunted. “Gray…Grayson, what’re you-!”

“Just for a few minutes, Damian. Please.” He whispered as the cat meowed in annoyance, jumping off the bed. He felt the shaking of his arms echo through Damian’s torso as the boy suddenly stopped fighting. He leaned his head down to kiss at Damian’s hair, then pressed his cheek against it as they slowly rocked back and forth. “Please just let me hold you.”

There was a moment’s pause before Damian leaned against him, body relaxing and melting into his embrace. “Okay,” Damian agreed softly. Dick smiled as he felt Damian’s hands curl possessively into his shirt. “Okay, Grayson.”


End file.
